My new fanfiction

[Hickory]

Instead of concentrating my fanfiction efforts on "those mice books" I've chosn to do so with the much less famed Castaways series. Do enjoy!

Chapter 1

Slash! Jab!

Captain Alan Baudin's rapier blade flashed in the sunlight as he attacked the figure in front of him. The dummy fell to the ground, pieces of straw poking out of the holes the blade had caused. The French sea Captain cut a trim figure as he exited his cabin and strode onto deck.

He had left the French Navy a few years back, using his saved money to buy a new Brigatine sailing ship. He had sailed the seas with a few close friends, gathering old and new contacts. Soon, he had a fully crewed ship. Cap'n Baudin, however, had no wish to cruise the seas as a privateer. He contracted his services as a merchant, albeit one without any need for escort.

The Frenchman was dressed in a modified French Navy-issued jacket, and a blank white cap was tucked under his arm. Baudin had learnt the skill of a blademaster after leaving the navy; he had chosen his main weapon as a rapier. The Captain was nearing the end of his prime years, but he was still tall and saturnine, smart as a whip.  His trimmed beard was mostly grey now, and wisps of ashen hair stuck out from under his cap. His eyes, however, still held a twinkle in them.

Carlos, the Ecuadorian first mate, marched up to Baudin and made a smart salute. Like all the other sailors, he wore canvas pants and a cotton shirt. "Sir, we're well underway now. The coast is almost out of sight."

They had set sail from England, having unloaded a cargo of gunpowder for the Royal Navy. Baudin and the rest of the crew were glad to be rid of the British Isles. Their "escorts", several navy ships, had the most unfriendly and unhelpful captains. The hostility was palpable. A quarter of his crew had rolled the gunpowder kegs down the ramp, onto the jetty, and left them there. Baudin nodded to Carlos. "Very good, very good. Keep her at half sail, we're far enough away the British won't cause us much trouble.

The Lady Fortune skimmed over the waves as Captain Alan Baudin returned to his cabin, where he shrugged of his Naval jacket and hung it and his cap on on a hook. Turning to a large oaken desk, he pciked up a quill, dipped it in ink and began another Captain's log entry.

July 14, 1745. Finished a mission delivering gunpowder purchases to England. Glad to be off, if we spent one more minut over the time limit in the harbour they'd've blown our heads off. A day and a half into the Atlantic, destination not yet known. Will stop at Lisbon to refill supplies.

Baudin layed down the quill and turned, staring through his window at a heaving sea. What would this trip to the Atlantic hold in store for him? As far as the Frenchman knew, he would find out when the Lord choose to do so.

[Mhera]

Very nice!

[Skyblade]

I'm not familiar with the book series, but this is well written!

[Hickory]

The next chapter had Ben and Ned in it.

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Finally! A fan fic about Castaways! This is awesome! I can't wait for more!

[Luftwaffles]

This is very nice, Sage.

I'm not familiar with the Castaways universe, but your writing is amazing.

[Banya]

Well done, Sage!  I feel you've captured the writing style of Castaways brilliantly.  You're a clear and gifted writer; I sincerely hope you're working on more.

[Hickory]

Chapter 2

Two days later.

Alberto, the steersman, had left his post. Cap'n Baudin had ordered a course due west, and it was the work of the moment to lash the wheel on a straight course. The big, tan Italian had no trouble navigating the rolling decks of the ship; he had grown up doing it. Alberto loathed being  sent on a trip around the harbour area, prefering to stay on the ship at all times. Now was such a time. The Lady Fortune was docked in Lisbon, and the Captain had accompanied the group that headed for shore. The steersman could picture what the Captain would bring back with him... Baulin always had an eye out for the welfare of his crew, and he usually brought a small treat back with him when he left for shore in a large port. The day was fast fading to night, and twilight hues of purple and red light made a final grab for the horizon.

Alberto mused over where the ship would head next. The Captain was very enigmatic when it came to the ship's destinations, and this voyage was no different. The Italian stroked his short goatee, thinking of the past ports they had been to.

He was startled by a dull thud from somewhere near the ship. Alberto instinctly looked down, where he heard muffled whimpers and the occasional voice. What has going on? His had reached for a long dagger tucked in his belt as he approached the midddle of the ship, also the lowest point. If the intruders didn't show themselves soon, he would have to dive in after them.



Ben heaved an inward sigh of exasperation as his black Labrador, Ned, sent out hurt thoughts to his master. "Ow ow ow, mate, could've told me about that ship hull up ahead. Soaked paws and a splitting headache, what next?"
The lad replied mentally to his friend. "Well, I still have soaked hands and clothes, I don't think I'm any better of then you. Huh, thought I heard footsteps. Mr. Bundi, what've you got to say for yourself, eh?"

Alberto's strong voice rang out over the now still waters. "Show yourself, or I'll come in after you! No use hiding, amico."
There was a short silence, then Ben called out. "How do I now you won't hurt us?"
The Itaian sailer chuckled. "More of you, eh? State your business, and why you have chosen to bump into Captain Baulin's boat at dusk."
Another, slightly longer silence followed. Ben sent a mental thought to Ned. "Right, mate what now? This Cap'n Baulin sounds like a fierce fellow."
Ned made a doggy snorting noise. "Listen, m'boy, leave it to the great Ned! Just follow my lead..."

Alberto saw a dark shape plow out into the waters a short distance away from the Lady Fortune. After much eye squinting, he identified it as a dog, and the slightly larger thing coming after it as a young boy. He heard the boy yell out to him. "I'm Ben and this dog here is Ned! Sorry for bumping into your ship, we were out for a little swim and it was a little too dark."

"I'll say, signore. Where are your parents?"

"Well..."
"Ben, mate, just give them the normal stuff. Y'know, son of a killed sailor, wandered around, managed to get here, now you need a place to stay. That Italian looks pretty bad, but I'm sure that if you rub him the right way he'll be fine."
Ben replied to Alberto. "I'm the son of a deceased ship's officer, it was only the dog and I that made it of the sinking ship. We've been wandering this area for a bit now, d'you mind taking us in?"

Alberto storked his chin, contemplating the information. After a few minutes he called back to Ben. "I'll toss you a rope, come aboard. When my Captain comes back, he'll have a word with you."



   Cap'n Baudin promptly handed the bag of goat's milk cheese to another sailor before racing over to where Alberto stood, accompanied by a now-dry Ben and Ned. The Frenchman's keen eyes picked over the boy and his dog as he interrogated Alberto. "Who are these truands and what are they doing on my ship?"
"Captain, I apprehended them when I found them on the starboard side. They looked like they'd been swimming for hours."
Ned sent out an indignant thought. "Well, apparently you were of very good will to accept such baddies like us onto the ship, eh Ben?"
The lad replied mentally. "I don't recall us ever looking evil, d'you?"

Ben was distracted from the Labrador's reply by Cap'n Baudin's question. "Boy, what's your name and why were you swimming in the harbour?"

Ben replied, telling Baudin the same story he had told the steersman. Alberto nodded in agreement, confirming the "truthfulness" of Ben's story. The Frenchman observed Ben and Ned for a few moments, then guestered for a smaller man to come over to him. The other man was named Arron. He held no important rank, but was held in high respect by the crew for his truthful words of wisdom. Arron was of short stature, with mussed brown hair and thick limbs. No one had ever determined his nationality, but he was an invaluble asset to the crew.

"Yes, Captain?"
"Take the boy as your assistant. Make a bed for him in the crew cabin. The boy is off duty when you are, and on duty when you are. Take the dog to the kitchen, I'm sure James will find a good use for him, rooting out rats.
Ben caught on to Ned's thought. "Rooting out rats? What do they think I am?"
The boy repied mentally. "A dog, that's what. Now act like one!"


Before Ben was lead of by Arron, he heard Ned make one last remark: "Huh, wonder if rats make a good dinner."

[Hickory]

By the way, did I get Ned and Ben's personality right?

[Banya]

Sage, in response to your question:  My first thought is that you made Ben and Ned too much alike.  They're not the same personality.  Ned is the jokier one, and both seem to carry Ned's personality here.  Ben is a bit more solemn.  He has a mischievous side, but he knows when and where to use it, and we only see it with people he's comfortable around. 
I don't think you need to use the word "mentally," as 1.) we know and 2.) when talking with humans, Ben is more likely to shut Ned out than to converse with him in the presence of others.

In the first paragraph in which you introduce Ben and Ned to the story: I think that you caught their personalities here.  What does Ben call Ned and why?

Are you going to give us a story for Ben and Ned that explains why they were in the water?  I don't think it's likely they'd be in the water without a very good reason to be, given the circumstances surrounding a hellish Dutchman roaming the sea and seeking them.

My comments from the first chapter haven't changed.  I think you capture the writing style of Castaways well, particularly when writing about the ship's crew.  Ben and Ned will always be difficult to write about because your readers know them, but you've done Ned justice.  Your original characters and their descriptions are fantastic.  I look forward to reading more!

[Hickory]

Thanks. I'll edit that second chapter, but won't put the revised version back up. For any others who will comment, I am working on Banya's suggestions.

[Mhera]

Okay. Banya covered the subject very well, so I've got nothing to add besides that it was an otherwise great chapter. Nice work!

[Hickory]

Ok, as an update I'm gonna say that the third chapter is in the works. While I'm pretty well into it I'm still working out the finer points of how Ben and Ned got into the water. So be ready.

[Cornflower MM]

This is very good, Sage! However, I have a few critiques: Firstly, I noticed you sometimes use 'of' instead of 'off' Not majo, just thought I'd point that out. The other, I realize Banya already addressed.

This is really good work, though! Keep it up - I can't wait to see the next one. (

[Hickory]

Chapter 3

The face of the man became visible in the lantern light, leering with tattoos and with a gold ring hanging from his nose. A sharp, wicked knife was held in one hand, while he other one was restraining his victim's body. The knife rose higher, higher, as the face started changing, narrowing, the tattoos disappearing and the nose getting more beaky. The barrel chest grew smaller until it was covered by a long, seafarer's coat and the knife had grown into a long cutlass. The dreaded Captain Vanderdecken stood in front of Ben, its evil face snarling in the lantern light. The cutlass, as if in slow motion, began its lethal fall, swinging down...closer... deadlier!

Ben awoke with a start. Feeling around in the darkness, he clutched a small knife he had brought with him. The snores of Lady Fourtune's crew resounded around him. Straining his ears, he could detect the faint sound of Ned whining. Slowly climbing out of the hammock, he stepped around and over crew members who were fast asleep, until he spotted the dark form of Ned's body. Shifting aside someone's arm, he cleared a small space where he could squat next to his dog. "Ned? Are you awake?"

A low growl issued from the labrador's mouth, then Ben caught a reply. "Fine, mate, just a little startled."

Ben looked away, contemplating the dream. These occurences weren't good, weren't good at all. When he had dashed out the door, holding Ned by the scruff, and leapt in the water, it had been the tattooed man wating on the bank, not Vanderdecken. Ben still counted himself lucky that it had been a dream, a hallucination, but he realized just how bad it was right now as he sat on the Lady Fortune's deck.

Ned clapped a paw on Ben's leg. "Mate, it's getting light out. That guy, Ar-what's-his-name, he's going to want us."

Ben didn't respond. Getting up, he threw his shirt over his head and headed out onto the dawn-lit deck.

Cap'n Baudin stood there, smoking a pipe, gazing over the sea toward the horizon. A slight wind pushed the smoke away from the captain's face, and his coat moved slightly with the breeze.

"I heard your dog whining when I checked in on my men," Baudin said. "But the thing is, it wasn't a normal whine. No, definitely not. More like a... fearing whine."

The captain removed his pipe and tipped it against the railing to expel the ashes. He replaced it back in his mouth; Ben could see him subconciously biting on the end.

"Strange occurences always seem to happen when I get to this neck of the woods. Or these waters, anyway. Never liked Portugal, 'specialy Lisbon. Much too busy." He heaved a sigh and turned around. "Anyway, it's nice to have fresh blood on the ship. Everyone else is fed up with each other, it's a good thing they could loosen up on shore. Of course, you can't let 'em have too much fun, otherwise they'd come back drunk enough that you wonder how they made it back."

Ben looked uncomfortable. "Well, Captain, I can't really stay..."

Only now did Baudin look Ben in the eye. "You'll stay here until I say so. I like you, and keeping a young man like you aboard a ship for a long time isn't what I would do to my children, but I can't have you hopping off. I have plenty of enemies who'd like to... repay me, usually in blood. If they catch wind of my location..." he sniffed. "And it doesn't help that some governments hate me as well. After I hijacked an American cargo ship carrying ammunition for the British, and the near escape from the Americans, I said to the Brits, 'Hell, I'm a merchant, not a mercenary! You conduct your own business with the Yanks and I'll stick to my cargo carrying operations, no matter how dull.' I've been itching for action ever since, though, but I still won't mess with the British."

Ben chose to remain silent for a moment, before saying, "Well, I better go find Arron, he'll want help getting the ship ready."

The captain nodded absentmindedly.